Fur and Fangs
by Lucinda
Summary: A Spike is banished from his home, to another world, where he finds himself among the Scoobies... and their Spike. Crossover with White Wolf roleplaying.
1. parts 1 to 10 Fur and Fangs

Author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
pairings: Willow/Spike, Buffy/Spike  
  
disclaimer: the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy, etc (lots of people who are not me). The alternate Spike is rather heavily based on White Wolf roleplaying Games "Werewolf the Apocalypse" (more people who aren't me).  
  
Response to Fayth's Alterna-Spike Challenge (included below)  
  
Distribution: Bite Me, please? WLS, anyone else, please ask first.  
  
Ok challenge 2, this is for everyone. Because i love these types of fic.  
  
This challenge is called alterna-Spike.  
  
  
  
It must include a Spike that isn't our Spike. This could be in the form of Robot-Spike, Shapeshifting Spike, Demon-Spike, Human-Spike, Timetravelling Spike, or Different Dimension Spike.etc etc etc Whoever must come to Sunnydale and find our Wills and wackiness ensues especially when the other Spike finds out. Set when you want, how you want whatever you want. Smut or fluff. you decide.  
  
Fayth  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike glared at Ripper, certain that the older male would only lead them into their doom. Not glorious death in battle, but a slow, withering, where time and fear and the efforts to stay undetected would wear them away, killing them as dead as any illness or injury. Worse, he was certain that it would be a harsh wounding to their spirits, the People were not meant to cower in the shadows, hiding from their enemies, skulking in the shadows like scavengers. They were warriors, and had a proud and glorious history.  
  
But he was not their leader. He'd tried, challenging Ripper repeatedly, each time coming closer to defeating the leader. But the older warrior was clever, and cunning in a fight. He'd managed each time to win, using Spike's impulsiveness and quick temper against him. But he couldn't hold power forever. Not against vigor and determination. It would only be a matter of time.  
  
But then Spike felt a tendril of cold worry worm it's way through him. Ripper's girlfriend was here. The crazy witch... the one who collected porcelain dolls and information on King Henry the Eighth. Drusilla. Yes, she was beautiful, and yes, she had power, but she wasn't right in the head. Why was she here? What reason could there be?  
  
If Dru was here, there would only be something unsettling happening. She was beautiful, and had a pretty voice, but there was something very disturbing about the way she talked to her dolls, and claimed to hear whispers from the stars. She also reeked of power tonight, obviously prepared for something big.  
  
He lurked on the edges, listening to the voices of the pack, a part of him reveling in their strength, another part worried for the future. They had enemies, so many enemies. Ands the passing years only increased their enemies power, while their own dwindled. Their numbers were fewer and fewer every generation. One day, there would be nobody left to stand and fight the dangers that threatened their world.  
  
"Spike. Just the wretch that I was looking for." Ripper's voice sounded smug, delighted about having finally managed to... whatever it was, it probably wouldn't make Spike happy.  
  
He looked at Ripper, managing his usual cocky grin. But inside, that feeling of worry was getting bigger. "Well, here I am. 'Ello to you as well, and to you, princess."  
  
Dru reached out, her fingers brushing over the steel curve of metal that pierced his eyebrow. Her voice was almost musical. "He's all moonbeams and alabaster... Are you sure he can't stay?"  
  
Spike's eyes widened, and his eyebrows rose. Suspicion and dread snarled in his gut, twisting and clawing at him, making his blood burn and his eyes itched with the urge to change. "Stay? Why wouldn't I be..."  
  
Ripper's smile was almost kindly, the fact that his eyes held the emotion of river pebbles countering the effect. "I'm afraid you won't be here any longer. You've been a voice of dissent in the pack. I'm banishing you, and with Dru's assistance, you will be somewhere far away, unable to trouble me ever again."  
  
"Where are you sending me?" A tiny hint of a rumble had slid into Spike's voice, and he could feel his eyes bleeding over to yellow.  
  
Ripper smiled, a cruel expression. "You know, I'm not certain. Dru's sending you far, far away. Where you land just... wasn't a major consideration, as long as it's far from here. Goodbye."  
  
Dru was speaking, her voice gone distant and oddly doubled, as if her words were being echoed a heartbeat after she had spoken. A small corner of his mind recognized them as Latin, and the air felt thin, but at the same time as if it were filled with something, some pressure against him. He tried to push against it, but the air was too thick, and it would have had more effect to swat at the water in a lake.  
  
Everything spun around him, and Spike howled into the darkness, a primal protest that made words entirely unneeded. He felt himself falling, and then, it was as if he fell into a great expanse of taffy, sinking into something that he couldn't see, his vision gone red-black, his head throbbing and spinning.  
  
It felt as if the thickness around him pulsed, and he was dropped into warm, humid air, and landed on ground, the scent of crushed grass filling his nostrils, along with fresh turned earth, and many, many dying flowers. He was in a cemetery, and had a sinking feeling that this wasn't Surrey anymore.  
  
"Where the bloody hell am I?"  
  
But there was no answer carried on the night air, just a feeling so thick that he could taste it, a feeling of evil. Not a specific individual, but... it was as if the very land, the place was filled with evil, contaminated and impregnated with it. If ever there was a place in need of a guardian, a defender of the earth, this place was it. He could only hope that it wasn't too late already. Surely a place tainted with this much evil had drawn tainted and corrupted creatures to it as well?  
  
  
  
end part 1.  
  
  
  
He had been walking for a while, discovering that he'd landed in the middle of a good sized cemetery. There were a lot of recent graves, the source of the flower scents that he'd noticed, practically been assaulted by. How big was the town or city near here that there were this many graves? He wanted to know, and the only way to find answers, like where was he, what was going on, and how to get home required either finding the nearest town, or finding a person. Somehow, he doubted that graveyards would be the best place for meeting people.  
  
To make matters worse, this graveyard reeked of vampires.  
  
He felt his skin quiver in unease. This wasn't the scent of one or two vampires, there had been over a dozen different vampires passing through here. He could only take this as a sign that he'd been right, the evil he sensed had drawn the corrupt to this place. Maybe the vampires explained all the recent graves. But he had the unsettling instinct that there was more to the story than that, the darkness and evil of this place was more than the presence of vampires. He continued walking, his flesh almost crawling at the thought of remaining here, in the cemetery.  
  
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, Spike made his way out of the cemetery, wandering in a direction that was generally downhill. There was a hint of the ocean in the air, the tang of salt and dead fish and rotting kelp. It was also seasoned by all the chemical odors of the urban life, car exhaust, rotting garbage, smoke and chemicals and grease... oh, he was definitely near civilization.  
  
"Hey, Spike... ummm is everything all right? You look a bit... ummm... a bit out of it."  
  
The voice was light, reminding him of a spring breeze. The speaker was a slender woman with hair the red of autumn leaves, and eyes as green as jade. He could feel the magic inside her, and his skin quivered again. He'd never seen her before in his life, but she seemed to think that she knew him. "Red."  
  
"Yeah... well, since I had to go out and get a few things, you can walk me back to the Magic Box, because, you know, not safe to be out alone at night and all." She was giving him a small tentative smile, one that made it clear that she thought she knew him.  
  
"That would be because this place is evil, ducks." She had to know, she had to feel it.  
  
Red only sighed, with something not quite exasperation. "I know, evil, evil, evil. That's because of the hellmouth. But that's Sunnydale for you. Evil. So, walk with me anyhow."  
  
He had a name now, he was in a place called Sunnydale, and there was something called a Hellmouth that radiated the evil he felt. Definitely a place in need of protection. From her accent, he thought that he might have ended up in America somehow. Just another sign that magic was dangerous and not to be trusted.  
  
He was still trying to sort out how he'd got here, and where here was when he noticed the echoes following their footsteps. Something... several someone's were following them. He doubted that they were friendly. "Red... we have company on their way."  
  
There was a multivoiced roar from behind them, and the pair was attacked by three... things with dark green scales with faintly geometric patterns in a bluish tone, and sharp talons that looked made for ripping flesh from bones. Spike could feel his inner nature pressing forward, urging him to change, to make this fight more to his favor. His eyes faded from blue to a feral amber, and he could feel his skull shifting it's shape a little, his teeth becoming sharp fangs, his hands reshaping into fearsome claws.  
  
Not all of the roars and growls were coming from the scaled things. Spike could feel his chest vibrating from his own growls, and the air was scented with magic. Eventually, the fight ended, all three of the green things dead on the ground. The redhead whose name he still didn't know was standing there, clearly trying not to throw up, a tiny trickle of blood coming from her nose. She glanced over at him, and Spike knew in that moment what she would see.  
  
His eyes were still amber, his face shifted slightly, the brows heavy and his mouth full of fangs, traces of the scaled creatures blood still over his body. He hadn't quite managed to shift his hands back yet, so he still had wicked looking talons instead of fingernails. Covered in blood, yellow eyes and fangs.... he must look like a monster to her. Especially since one of those things had ripped out his piercing, causing blood to flow from his eyebrow.  
  
"You've been hurt... we'd best get you back to the Magic Box so I can bandage those up. Come on, before something else tries to attack us." She didn't look at all surprised. Nor did she seem to be particularly afraid of him.  
  
He wasn't certain if he was more surprised by the attacking things or by the redhead's lack of fear. Spike followed her numbly, hoping that all of this would begin to make sense soon.  
  
She lead him to a magic store.  
  
It was closed, but she had a key with her, unlocking the door and leading him inside, to a room in the back that looked as if it had been set up for training, with a rack of gleaming weapons on one wall. He sat there, feeling almost numb as she cleaned his wounds, the whole time talking about something called 'Teshrak demons' which he eventually gathered were those things that had attacked them. They weren't poisonous, although there was a high risk of infection because they sometimes scavenged, eating carrion, which was filled with all sorts of germs and bacteria. Her words didn't quite feel like a conversation, there didn't seem to be any need for him to answer. It was more like she was just... babbling, possibly from nerves.  
  
He was feeling more and less confused by the time she'd finished.  
  
"I... think I just need to get some decent sleep, and these won't be a problem anymore." He finally ventured a few words, hoping that they wouldn't cause any unexpected problems.  
  
She turned, looking at him with her green eyes full of mysteries. "That's fine, Spike. But... Giles wanted us all here tomorrow evening for some research on this extremely baffling prophecy he found, so... umm, can you be back here at nine?"  
  
He nodded, wondering who in the world this Giles person could possible be. "That'll be just fine, Red."  
  
  
  
end part 2.  
  
Spike had managed to leave the magic store, his mind still filled with questions. He didn't know who the redhead was, or how she knew him, or who this Giles that she'd mentioned was, although it was clear that he was a leader of some sort. Nor did he have any idea who 'us all' meant, beyond that it was clearly more than the redhead this Giles person, and whoever she was mixing him up with. Was there a Spike in this strange place? There must be, or else she wouldn't have known him.  
  
Part of his mind turned the situation over, trying to figure out what was going on, assuming that he hadn't just hit his head, thus making the whole mess a really bad dream. Safest to assume that this was real, and sort out the how later... beyond that it was Dru's spell and Ripper's idea to banish him.  
  
He'd wandered around the town, discovering that it wasn't particularly large, and he'd been right in his suspicion that he was in America. It was the same date, but... He had found a small restaurant, watching people and listening a bit to the television that was turned to a news channel. Current events seemed to be different, not quite as bad, but not a wonderful improvement. Mostly, it was the same sort of thing, but with different names and faces filling the same roles. There were celebrities he'd never heard of, which could have had to do with the fact that he'd never been big on following American celebrities, or it could have been because of the fact that this seemed to be a different world. The Beatles were still broken up, and John and George were both dead, which was a pity. He'd half hoped that there would be more good music here.  
  
The food was tolerable enough, and thanks to some miracle, his credit card still worked. He figured that he'd best go buy some clean clothing before it stopped, just so he'd have something fresh to change into.  
  
He'd lingered in the mall until it closed, regardless of the fact that he'd already bought his things, just watching the people. Fashions weren't the same, but he wasn't certain if that was due to the different country or the different world. It was frustrating, and he had no idea how he could ever get home, or if that was even possible. After all, who would believe that he was from an alternate reality? Who did he even know that he could try to tell? The red-haired witch? But that would mean placing his fate in the hands of a magic-user again.  
  
He'd watched things often enough that he managed to elude the mall security and stay there during the night, slipping out again in the morning. The weather was amazing, and he enjoyed the day, still trying to find out what he could do, and attempting to find out if there was any simple things that he could do to try to defend this place, Sunnydale, California.  
  
Having nothing better to do, he made his way back to the magic store, and recognized the redhead witch, who was shelving books from a shipping crate. There were two other people about the same age, a dark haired boy that almost moved like one of his people, but smelled human, and another woman behind the register, smiling cheerfully as she took the money from the last few customers. Most bafflingly, there were all the scents, of herbs and powders, books and stones and shells and leather, as well as steel and sweat and oil from the back room. He could smell his presence from last night. There was another scent that was almost familiar, and he wished that he could actually get a clear focus on it, without all the interfering scents from the merchandise.  
  
It became apparent that the young man also thought he knew him, a guarded 'Spike... I see you did show up.' greeting his entrance, making it clear that this man did not like him, or at least, the Spike that he thought he was talking to. The whole alternate world thing was starting to give him a headache.  
  
The witch smiled at him, the look saying that she was pleased to see him. "Hey... you could, umm... help me shelve these if you'd like. Xander, stop being mean." The faint blush that accompanied her words made him wonder exactly what sort of relationship she had with his double.  
  
But it would be a good way to cover some of his confusion. He started helping her shelve the books, full of New Agey things about 'Crystal Power' and 'Understanding the Tarot' and 'Past Life Regression'. He couldn't help it, he glanced at the one in his hand and gave a small snort. "Bunch of ridiculous nonsense, this."  
  
The redhead only shrugged, a small smile on her face. "But it's harmless nonsense."  
  
"Willow, how many copies of that herbal teas for therapy book do we have left?" The woman at the register's voice carried, and had just a hint of an accent, as if English wasn't her native language. She could only be referring to the redhead, which meant that he finally had a name for her.  
  
Sighing, the redhead that he now knew was Willow looked at the shelf, her finger hovering near the book titles. "Four... unless more came in in the other crate."  
  
The harmless industry of it all was disturbed by the door opening, and a pair of people walked in. Spike froze at the sight of them, his breath coming faster. One was the most stunning woman, her posture and motion proclaiming her a warrior, and her golden hair, tanned skin and long legs marking her as a beautiful woman. He was amazed, he was enraptured... he was in lust. But the person following her... the face was the same, except for the glasses as Ripper. He didn't move quite the same, like a warrior yes, but not with the arrogance and almost menace of his pack-leader.  
  
Willow gave a small wave, her voice soft. "Hi Buffy, Hi Giles."  
  
Giles who looked like Ripper looked over, a small sigh emerging. His eyes were filled with emotion, worry, compassion, affection for the redhead. Those eyes couldn't have been more different than Ripper's. "Good evening Willow, and... Spike. I did say everyone..."  
  
  
  
The blonde, Buffy was looking at him, her eyes slightly narrowed. Her posture had shifted slightly, and she looked ready to fight at an instant's notice. "Giles... that isn't Spike."  
  
Spike felt indignation rise inside of him "I bloody well AM Spike! Who else would I be?"  
  
Giles pulled his glasses off, wiping the lenses with a cloth. "A good question, who else would he be if he isn't Spike?"  
  
"I AM Spike! I should know my own bloody name, you twit!" Spike could feel his temper becoming short, and his rage stirred.  
  
Buffy half turned, enough that she could see Giles as well as Spike. "He doesn't feel like Spike. No goosebumps. So... who is he?"  
  
"Who's who, and why do we care about your goosebumps?" The voice came from behind them, a familiar accent and the voice itself chillingly familiar.  
  
The figure then moved up into view, and Spike stepped back, his shoulder touching the bookshelf. It was himself, only, not quite. This other Spike was paler, a scar over his eyebrow in place of the now... well, where he'd had a piercing. Their hair was the same, and they almost matched in clothing as well. But this other Spike, the one for their world... the biggest difference wasn't the clothing, or the scars. It was the fact that their Spike was dead.  
  
"Vampire!" The word was practically snarled.  
  
"What the bloody..." The vampire Spike looked stunned. "You... a bloody wolf!"  
  
They stood there, glaring at each other, faint growls vibrating in their chests. The other people looked back and forth, their expressions puzzled and concerned.  
  
"umm... Wills? Have you been trying any funny spells lately?" Xander's whisper carried extremely well in the tension filled room.  
  
"I didn't do this! I had nothing to do with this... oh, they've both got yellow eyes now... ummm if he's a werewolf, how come he looks like he's almost changing now, Giles?"  
  
Both Spikes as well as Buffy, Giles, Xander and the woman at the register were looking at Willow. Willow was looking defensive.   
  
end part 3.  
  
"He's a werewolf... how in the bloody hell couldn't you figure that out?" Spike in the leather coat, the one that had to be their Spike, practically growled, glaring in equal measures at the other Spike and at Willow.  
  
Willow glanced at the two of them, comparing the two in rapid detail. Spike that she'd had helping her with the books was a bit less pale, and currently flushed, most likely with anger. She could see his pulse throbbing in his neck, and hear the low vibration of his growl. The place where he'd had a little metal bit shaped like a bent barbell in his eyebrow was a half healed scar, a contrast to the Spike facing him.  
  
Right now, they both had yellow eyes, but... the one beside her had eyes that were a bit closer to amber than true yellow. He was also radiating body heat, and had seemed quite interested when he'd seen Buffy, gazing at her with this measuring, lust-filled look. It was something their Spike would rather be tortured than do.  
  
Neither one looked quite human at the moment, although there were slight differences in the reshaping of their skulls. Both had sharp fangs, and claws... Maybe she'd best say something?  
  
"umm, Spike? Both Spikes actually... could you try to calm down a bit? I didn't do it, Giles didn't do it, nobody in this room brought... umm... werewolf Spike to Sunnydale. Why not skip the growling manly challenge thingy until... some time when it won't wreck the store? Maybe we should try to figure out this prophecy, or umm... how he did end up in Sunnydale?" She could feel everyone staring at her, and she knew that she was blushing.  
  
"He's a vampire. How am I supposed to be calm around a vampire? They're leeches, feeding on humanity like useless parasites." The living Spike had a very effective growl.  
  
Willow could see Buffy smile a little bit, and Xander just blinked, as if the sight of Spike, even if not their Spike, saying such things about vampires was incomprehensible.  
  
"Hey! I'm not a bloody worthless parasite! I've helped save the whole blasted world... twice! And I won't get fleas..." Vampire Spike couldn't resist taunting the other man.  
  
With a moment's pause for a quick request for luck, Willow put herself between the two, confident that at least vampire Spike couldn't hurt her on account of the chip. "Right... you don't like each other, you both find it annoying that there's someone else with your face, and yes, Spike, that is what you look like, at least he looked like you before you both went all grrr and growly, and could you two stop that now? It's really not helping."   
  
The living Spike, the one that might be a werewolf, looked at her, his eyes narrowed as he considered her words. "Right... this isn't helping. Not much experience with prophecies, but I have an idea how I got here. My pack leader decided I was trouble, and had his bird the mage send me off to... here. Sunnyhell. Near as I could tell, they didn't pick a destination, just 'away' from them."  
  
Vampire Spike looked at her, his expression angry and resentful of... something. Most likely the other Spike. "I suppose Giles wouldn't like it if we broke the shop. So, what's this about a prophecy anyhow?"  
  
Xander chipped in, his voice nervous. "Is... number two really a werewolf? Not just some whacked out evil twin vampire?"  
  
The words from the living Spike came out between gritted teeth, and Willow had the feeling that he was contemplating physical harm to Xander. "I an NOT a vampire. You'd say werewolf, but the real term is Garou. I'm not the same as that... vampire."  
  
Xander and Anya still ended up sitting as far from the werewolf Spike as possible, which meant that Willow found herself sitting between the Spikes, and Buffy sat on the other side of the werewolf, or Garou Spike, since the name seemed like a touchy thing to him. The big old books were on the table, and pages with the original prophecy and it's translation. All that was left was figuring out what in the world it meant.  
  
Over Darkness Bound, held deep within,   
  
Champions strive to protect the Great Mother  
  
When Darkened Mirrors both stand firm,  
  
Guardian and Hunter and Wise and Chosen,  
  
All unite to defeat the Ancient Foe  
  
Then shall the Binding be Complete,   
  
With Twinned Blood the Darkness Locked.  
  
  
  
After a few moments of staring at it, which felt much less awkward with the words translated into English, Xander spoke. "You know, I thought these things were supposed to rhyme?"  
  
Giles sighed, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "It rhymed in the original Babylonian. I was attempting to translate it accurately, not maintain a sense of rhyme and poetic structure."  
  
Willow frowned at the words. "Chosen... could that be Buffy? She's the Slayer, Chosen to fight evil, right? If the Guardian, Hunter, Wise and Chosen are four people, then could the Chosen mean Buffy? Or a Slayer, at least?"  
  
Xander looked up, a frown on his face. "If Buffy's the Chosen, does the whole Darkness Bound within part mean the hellmouth? On account of how it is sort of... trapped underground and everything?"  
  
Giles nodded, his eyes caught with enthusiasm. "If the Darkness refers to the Hellmouth, than the part about the Binding being completed would refer to closing it, permanently. In which case, the four are needed as a condition, and also the... ah, Darkened Mirrors and the Twinned Blood. If all of those conditions are met, then... we should be able to close the hellmouth."  
  
There were a few moments of awed silence from everyone, including the Garou Spike. Willow was certain that they were all trying to imagine what effect the absence of the Hellmouth would have.  
  
Buffy spoke then, her voice full of frustration. "But what's the part about a Great Mother? And wouldn't a wise person be far away from all of this stuff?"  
  
"The earth." The words came from the other Spike, and there was a deep respect in his voice. "The Great Mother is the earth, Gaia. My people... the Garou were chosen to be guardians, the protecting warriors to fight against the enemies of our world. According to the oldest stories, the name of our people meant guardian."  
  
Willow's words came softly, with reluctance. She knew that what she was about to say would be met with a bit less than complete enthusiasm. "I think the Darkened Mirrors are the two Spikes. I mean, they look alike, hence the whole Mirror thing. So, umm... plus he said his people were Guardians, so I'm pretty sure one of the Four is the new Spike."  
  
"What about the whole darkened thing?" Anya didn't sound like she was arguing, just curious exactly how much Willow had guessed.  
  
Willow shifted a bit in her seat, feeling everyone looking at her. "Well, Garou Spike seems to have... a dislike of vampires. For him, wouldn't seeing himself as a vampire be pretty dark? And our Spike looks at him and sees himself, only alive, and... umm... not thinking about humans as happy meals on legs, so again with the pretty dark reflection image double thing. Am I making any sense?"  
  
Spike the vampire moved in his seat, his arm brushing and resting against Willow. "What about the whole Champions part? These people protecting the Great Mother... the earth, right? Who are these champions?"  
  
"If our guesses are right, I think... that would mean all of us. We all, in our own ways, attempt to defend our home, which is over the hellmouth. So, by Champions, it refers to people attempting to defend, people with courage and determination." Giles spoke slowly, as if he was still mentally checking his words against the prophecy.  
  
Buffy looked somewhere between relieved and worried. "So, this means that we might be able to close the hellmouth? Where's the downside to this?"  
  
"We don't know. That's still a bit murky. But it does sound as if... I believe we will need both Spikes for this to take effect, or to work. So, I suppose... ah, where are you staying?" Giles sounded a bit worried.   
  
With a glance that bordered on an angry glare, Spike the Garou looked at Spike the vampire. "I didn't have somewhere yet. But it's not like I have anywhere to go right now, Dru's little spell saw to that."  
  
"Dru?" The name was repeated with varying tones and expression, Willow's own voice a mixture of surprise and fearful recognition. Xander leaned a bit more towards fear, while Buffy's held definite anger.  
  
"Yeah... pretty, dark hair, collects dolls. She's the pack leader's girlfriend, and it was her bloody spell that sent me here. Crazy..." His voice trailed off, his expression making it clear that he did not have fond memories of the woman.  
  
"Why don't you come stay at my place? I've got room." Buffy's voice held a bit of something, more than just acknowledgement that he was needed for a prophecy.  
  
Everyone began to filter out, Xander and Anya already discussing their plans for the rest of the evening, Giles murmuring something about some scrolls and a tablet, and Buffy chatting with Spike about Sunnydale, and how she would make sure he didn't have any problems.  
  
This left Willow sitting there, staring at the page with the translation, one finger tapping an erratic rhythm on the table. Spike the vampire was leaning against a book case, looking at her.  
  
end part 4.  
  
"Red, how in the bloody hell did you find that guy? And why didn't you notice that there was something off about him?" Spike's voice still had undertones of growl to it.  
  
She looked at him, feeling a touch of exasperation. "I was on my way back to the store, and there he was along the street. He seemed all quiet and glowery, which you do all the time. We got jumped by some demons, he went growly and had great fun ripping them apart, not unlike you, although I did not look to analyze a pattern to his mauling. He had yellow eyes, sharp teeth, and claws, sort of like you. If he looks like Spike, acts like Spike, and gets the yellow eyes like Spike, why wouldn't I assume that he was Spike?"  
  
"What about in here, earlier?" Spike seemed quite fixated on the idea.  
  
"He was ignoring Xander, again with the normal Spike behavior. Poked fun at the new Age books. There was the whole stunned lusty staring at Buffy, which didn't seem at all normal, but... well, he was talking to me. I suppose that's a bit out of character. Heaven knows you can't stand to do that. So, I'll let you... whatever it is you do by yourself, and I'll go home and toss and turn over this prophecy. Good night, Spike." Some of her impatience and hurt showed through, but as long as he didn't guess the cause, Willow was safe. As long as he never figured out about her crush on him. She was certain that he would never return it anyhow, so why give him another reason to avoid her?  
  
Spike watched as Willow left, feeling unreasonably hurt at her words. While he couldn't argue about her claim that ignoring Xander was normal, and if his wolfy twin did that as well, it showed good sense, but... It stung to hear her say that she didn't think he could stand to be around her or talk to her. She was one of two people in the whole blasted scooby group that he could stand at all, the other being Rupert. But Rupert reminded him of Dalton, one of the most useful minions that he'd ever kept. Willow... she wasn't like anyone else that he'd ever met in all his years.  
  
She was brilliant, and could connect things in minutes that he had to puzzle over for hours. She knew so much about so many different things, and if she didn't know, she would always know where to look to discover the new information that she needed. Her mind was filled with interesting quirks, and she would come up with the most interesting questions, like asking how vampires shaved with no reflections. Or asking why he only liked to soak his Wheatabix in certain types of blood but not others. A or AB yes, but not O or B for Wheatabix.  
  
That was something else he'd never remembered to thank her for. He'd complained after a terrible fight that vampires didn't heal as fast if they fed on animal blood as from human blood, and after asking him almost an hours worth of questions about the different types of blood and the relative nutritional value of them, she'd gone away for a while. He'd thought that was the end of it, but then she'd shown up at his crypt, a cooler full of blood with her. Human blood. She'd done something and arranged for him to get some real human blood every week from the local chapter of the Red Cross. It wasn't fresh, and certainly didn't have the flavor of blood right from a terrified mortal, but it was immensely better than cold pigs blood in styrofoam tubs. He'd never even asked how she'd managed it, but without those bags of human blood, sometimes two, more often four or five a week, he had no idea how he could have made it through the past month.  
  
  
  
He didn't know what to say around her. Before the chip, it had been easy, they'd only encountered each other a bare handful of times, and their words had been a few threats, the typical 'Buffy will stop you' and 'no having!', all of which were really simple. But now... he wasn't working on any plans to take over the hellmouth, and if he were really honest, he wasn't certain that he wanted to anymore. He couldn't hurt her, or any other human, so threats and the assorted responses to threats were out. He wanted... he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted, but he didn't want her to be afraid of him anymore. He didn't want her to avoid him, to think of him as her enemy. She wasn't his enemy now, not in his own mind and dreams.  
  
Some of those dreams were quite... well, he could never talk about them here without that Slayer staking him. Or Willow could even do it herself, especially since he had the chip. But in his dreams... he could see, touch, taste every inch of her soft skin, caress her body with his fingers. He could touch her, bring them both to intense passionate pleasure. He could taste her in his dreams, bite through that soft skin that had smelled so temptingly of vanilla and take just a small taste of her blood... not to feed or hurt her, but in passion, to share her pleasure and his own. He could imagine them, bodies twined together on soft sheets, her skin practically glowing against deep blue or green sheets, or perhaps a dark red... her cheeks would flush with passion and pleasure, and her eyes would look like dark emeralds...  
  
He wanted to make those dreams real. He'd wanted to since... he wasn't exactly certain when they'd become what they were. The first time he'd had an erotic dream about her had been after Halloween, but he hadn't been certain what her name was. He'd wanted to possess her, to take her to his bed and make her cry out his name in lust and need and pleasure. Those dreams had ended with him draining her as she writhed in pleasure beneath him.  
  
It must have been after he'd kidnapped her and Xander for that love spell he'd wanted on Dru that he'd started to see her as more than a pretty face and female body to take and possess and enjoy. But when... he'd started at some point to want more than just willing pleasure with her. He didn't know when, but it had been there. It had been part of the source of the stabbing burning jealousy that he'd felt at the idea of her and that witchy girl. It had been part of the reason he'd been so delighted when she'd broke up with the other girl, well, that and he'd never liked Tara very much.  
  
He hadn't expected it to hurt that she didn't think he wanted to be near her. Especially since the truth was that he wanted to be very near her. But more than that, he wanted her to smile lovingly at him like she'd done with the witch, like he imagined she'd done to wolf-boy. He wanted her to care about him, to want him, not just desire his touch and his body, but to want his company and his presence.  
  
Somehow, he'd managed to botch that from the very beginning. Between trying to kill her in the dorms and the insults that he'd hurled at the whole group while he'd been chained in the watcher's bathroom... He'd crushed any chance of having her before he'd even realized just how much he did want to have her. Then, he'd seen her sitting there, shelving books with that... wolf that had his face. The way she'd been looking at him... it had sent rampant flares of jealousy and anger through him. Don't look at that wolf like that, look at me... But what good would it do to say anything?  
  
He glanced skyward, wondering if there really was a god, and if so, was that god organizing things to go like this out of some sense of amusement? Had this wolf Spike been brought here to torment him with the sight of Willow looking at... Spike suddenly froze, thinking very carefully about that image. Willow had been sitting there, looking at the other Spike with this look of half concealed longing. Longing was a close kin to desire, could she possibly want him?  
  
Maybe there was a sliver of hope for him. Especially since she'd said that the wolf Spike had been watching the Slayer, and in fact, he'd gone home with Buffy. Willow would never go after wolfy Spike if she suspected that he wanted her friend. That safely removed the other Spike from the possibility of competition. Willow wasn't a prize to be won by killing a certain number of demons or looking devastatingly sexy, but maybe if he could make a good impression... she might be willing to give him a chance.  
  
Spike walked over to the table, looking at one of the pages with the translation. Frowning, he considered the words carefully, and then pulled over the book that had the original version. He had an idea, and wanted to look a bit more closely at it before mentioning it to anyone. The line that had mentioned four people, Guardian and Hunter and Wise and Chosen... if the Guardian was the wolf-Spike, and the Chosen was Buffy, could the Wise be Willow? He knew that the word for Wicca derived from a word for wise or learned people. If the Babylonians had used something similar to refer to their mages, then the Wise might mean a sorcerer, which could mean Willow.  
  
He really didn't think he liked the idea of Willow involved with a prophecy tying her in with that wolf. He abandoned the paper that had the English translation, leaving it in the book with the Babylonian, his careful notes in the margins 'Wise - wicca derives from same root word' and 'possible parallel between wisdom/knowledge and magic use'. It wasn't immediately important now, and it would still be there if he decide to refer back to it.   
  
end part 5.  
  
Willow had gone to her classes, taken a lot of notes, and completely missed the point of one of the examples for her math class. She'd been too busy thinking about that prophecy... or rather, about Spike, and the other Spike. But she would claim it was the prophecy if anyone asked. Spike the Garou would most likely have to stay here. They didn't really know how he'd been sent here, they had a name, but not the method. Unless they knew how he'd got here, it would be almost impossible to find a way to send him home. The almost, of course, assumed that the Hellmouth and demon population would let them even have the time to try to find a way, which wasn't very likely.  
  
So it looked like Spike the Garou was here to stay... at least, here in this world. Buffy had been all giddy about him today, apparently they'd spent hours talking last night. In Willow's opinion, Buffy seemed to have a definite not so professional interest in him. That could be good, Buffy'd been lonely since Riley'd left, which was a whole other messy story. Shaking her head, Willow sighed. Garou Spike just might end up involved with Buffy, and if he was half as loyal as vampire Spike, Buffy would be a very happy Slayer. Considering the way he'd been looking at her last night, he would probably be thrilled.  
  
Sighing, Willow could just picture Buffy and Spike being blissfully happy together. It would certainly be good for Buffy, but... Her mind turned to her... no, to the vampire Spike. He certainly wouldn't want to get involved with Buffy. But that didn't mean that he would want to get involved with her, or anyone else for that matter. But Spike the vampire wasn't quite as bad and evil as he wanted everyone to think. He'd helped Buffy when Angelus was going to open Acathala... Acathala, hmmm. How exactly had that been opened anyhow? She'd better ask Giles, there was something nagging at her mind, something trying to connect and not quite reaching.  
  
Entering the Magic Box, she gave a small wave to Anya, and let herself into the back, where Giles was looking over the papers on the prophecy, and a few heavy looking books as well.  
  
"Hey Giles. umm, this might sound sort of weird, but... how was Acathala opened and closed? Before he got smashed up and turned into the gravel for the mansion's garden walkway, I mean." She kept her voice low enough that the few customers in the front wouldn't hear anything.  
  
Giles gave a shudder, closing his eyes. "Acathala was... opened by the blood of the 'worthy' which was spilled on the sword in order to enable it's removal. The blood of the same person, once applied or contacting a blade would enable it to be closed. Why?"  
  
"Here." Willow pointed to one of the phrases in the prophecy. Reading it out loud, she continued. " It says 'With Twinned Blood the Darkness Locked.' and I was wondering if that had a connection to something, like Acathala. If it was the blood that closed Acathala, does this mean that the Twinned Blood can close the Hellmouth? Which, would mean the two Spikes, naturally."  
  
Giles blinked, and looked at the passage again. "Yes, that does sound right, especially considering. I... someone left a few notes, and it appears that the Wise is you. The Babylonians referred to their sorcerers and magical practitioners as 'Learned Ones', so the parallel is quite obvious. The Wise is a magic user. The person responsible, and I can only assume that it was one of the Spikes, was quite correct."  
  
She sat down, feeling nervousness dance in her stomach. "I'm in a prophecy? But... that's Buffy's destiny, not mine! I can't be the third person, it doesn't make any sense... and do we have any idea about the Hunter?"  
  
With a fond smile, Giles nodded. "Yes, you are in the prophecy. And... well, I've established the something about the fourth, and it's fairly apparent who that person is. You see, the Babylonians did not have a specific word for vampires, and referred to them as 'hunters in the darkness'. Considering that one particular vampire that we know is referred to in two other places, it seems quite reasonable that the Hunter mentioned is the vampire Spike. Which means the Four are you, Buffy, and the two Spikes."  
  
"Oh dear." Willow knew that she was using one of Giles' favorite phrases for prophecies, but it just seemed to fit. "That should be... interesting. They don't get along very well."  
  
"Which 'they' are you meaning? Buffy and..." Giles looked curious.  
  
"Well, there's Buffy and our Spike, of course. But I was actually thinking of the two Spikes. They seems to have... issues."  
  
With a brief pause for thought, Giles nodded. "Yes, I did notice that last night."  
  
"Yay, now that we've got this prophecy mostly unraveled, I have algebra and history to work on. I think I'll just sit here where it's quiet." Willow's voice held a measure of pleasure, and an equal measure of exasperation for her homework.  
  
She was still looking at the open history text when Spike sauntered into the room, alone and wearing his long black coat. "Hope that's not another book on prophecies, Red. We've already got one floating around right now, we don't need another one."  
  
Willow jumped, thankfully managing not to squeak. Looking over, she noticed the leather coat, the old scar over the eyebrow, and the unnatural stillness of his throat, concluding that this must be the vampire Spike. Besides, Garou Spike would probably be with Buffy. "Hey Spike. Actually, Giles thinks we have the prophecy mostly figured out, or at least, we know who everyone is."  
  
He leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette. "Right, we have Fluffy the Slayer, Wolfy me, and you. Who else?"  
  
With a small, amused grin, Willow answered him. "Vampy you. Guardian is Spike the Garou, Hunter is you 'cause the Babylonians called vampires hunters in the darkness, Chosen is Buffy, on account of being the Slayer, and umm... the Wise seems to be me, on account of having magic."  
  
"I'm in this prophecy? But..." Spike looked stunned.  
  
With a small sympathetic smile, Willow shrugged. "I tried that already. It didn't work. I'm stuck in this thing, and so are you."  
  
Spike scowled, his expression reminding her of someone who'd just bit a lemon. "I'm stuck in some miserable prophecy with the Slayer and a fur ball with my face. Why can't I be in some prophecy about blood and serious changes?"  
  
Willow felt a little bit of hope that he hadn't complained about being in the prophecy with her. "Well... actually, there is blood and the closing of the hellmouth in this one. But we're still trying to get the details there."  
  
"Yes!" Spike looked momentarily delighted, and then got a wary expression. "Exactly who's blood is involved in this?"  
  
Willow tried not to giggle at his expression. "We aren't sure, but... I had an idea. I thought that it might be sort of like the Blood of the Worthy for Acathala, which would mean that somehow, your blood and that of the other Spike would be involved, but... we really aren't sure of the details."  
  
"My blood? Some ritual involving MY blood? I don't like that at all. There are only two times I'm willing to bleed, a lively fight and a nice hard shag. This doesn't sound like either one." Spike didn't sound at all amused, and was glaring at Giles.  
  
Willow was staring at Spike, her mind running with his comment about shagging. Spike... and sex... and blood. That was quite an interesting mental picture. She could feel herself turning absolutely crimson while the images formed in her mind. Especially since some of them featured her. Her and Spike... naked, doing naked things together... and him biting into the side of her throat, marking her as his, her biting into him, marking him as HERS. Oh dear, very, very naughty images...  
  
"Willow, you seem to be ahh..." Giles faltered, as if suddenly deciding that he didn't want to know. "Do you have any idea where Buffy and... the other Spike might be?"  
  
Willow nodded, her blush fading a bit. "Buffy wanted to show him around Sunnydale, and something about stopping for coffee. I think... umm... I think Buffy wants to convince him to stick around."  
  
"Do we have a way to send him back?" Spike's voice was only moderately sarcastic.  
  
"No." The answer came from Giles and Willow at the same time.  
  
Willow continued alone. "But stuck in this world isn't the same as staying here. I think Buffy wants him to stay, you know, in Sunnydale, with her. She... seems to like him a lot."  
  
Spike just smiled, a small chuckle escaping. "Buffy wants to keep the wolf... after all these hours of telling me that she didn't think I'm the least bit appealing, she's planning to shack up with my evil... furry twin. Priceless..."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with the way you look." Willow's words were murmured, with no intention of anyone else actually hearing them, but she'd forgotten about super vampire hearing. Now, Spike was looking at her, a smug grin on his features.  
  
Oh yes, she definitely hated being involved in a prophecy.  
  
end part 6.   
  
Spike certainly hadn't expected that comment. While he did know that he looked good, that was not the same as expecting Willow to say so, especially since she'd said there was nothing wrong with the way he looked. Nothing. He wondered if that included when he shifted to his vampire face, or only while he looked human? How much time had Willow spent looking at him?  
  
Maybe this prophecy wouldn't be too bad after all. Especially not if it involved him and Willow.  
  
"You think I look good?" His words were directed at Willow, low and almost teasing. He didn't want her to know how much those words had affected him. It wasn't exactly a declaration of lo... desire, but it was something.  
  
She was blushing again, all bright pink, and he could almost smell the blood, could imagine the most delicate of bites parting the skin, letting her blood trickle out... the chip choose that moment to jolt him with a painful 'reminder' that he wasn't supposed to be hurting people, and he could feel himself wince. The pain almost caused him to miss her words.  
  
"Of course... arrogant vampire, all sexy and confident and swooshing leather coat... like he doesn't know."  
  
He could feel his grin getting wider as her words spilled out. She was remarkable, and her mind worked in such bafflingly mysterious ways. He could spend decades listening, and he still doubted that he'd understand how her mind worked. With a little surprise, he realized that he found the idea appealing.  
  
"So, what do the Four in this thing do anyhow?" He was still watching Willow, delighted in her blushing, and almost regretting the way it caused certain parts of him to respond in particular.  
  
He could hear Giles removing his glasses, guessing that there was also the pinching of the bridge of his nose, possibly an effort to ward off a headache. "As near as I can guess, you will all four have to unite in a battle, facing what is referred to as an Ancient foe which might or might not refer to the hellmouth. I'm afraid it's rather cryptic."  
  
The bell on the door jangled, and Spike could hear the chattering voice of the Slayer. "Buffy's here. So's my furry twin." He wasn't certain if he liked their arrival, but it couldn't be helped.  
  
"Oh, its you. Giles, do we really need the dead one over there? Can't we just... send him out to beat up some demons or something?" Buffy had started by glaring at him, and was now looking pleadingly at Giles.  
  
Spike glared right back at her, and then decided to take a moment to look at the wolf. Garou Spike was in a pair of blue jeans and a gray shirt, his hair in an wild tousle, curls falling around his head. He was looking at him with a cautious, measuring expression, as if trying to figure out if he could take him in a fight.  
  
"What's your take on Sunnyhell, furry-me?" Spike couldn't quite resist asking the question.  
  
His double glared at him, the pulse throbbing in his neck. "It's... different. Lots of demons, and more bloodsucking leeches in one place than anywhere I've ever heard of before. But there are a few... redeeming features. But, what has been determined about this prophecy, and is that why I'm here?"  
  
Willow looked at the other Spike, her expression thoughtful. "We've figured out who the Four are, you're the Guardian, vampire Spike is the Hunter, Buffy's the Chosen, and it seems that I'm the Wise, because umm... magic and all. You two Spikes are the Mirror, and I suspect that the twinned blood is also referring to one or both of you, but we're still trying to figure that part out in more detail."  
  
"I knew I was in this, but... him? He's a vampire. Vampires don't... they drag things into darkness. They twist things and corrupt them, and feed on the people. How is he supposed to be any help?" His expression was not happy.  
  
He felt the sudden contrary urge to be part of this prophecy, to do better at his part than the wolf managed. "Are you saying that you don't think I'm up to it?"  
  
"Your kind are better at destroying than protecting." He was definitely glaring.  
  
"My kind?" Spike was absolutely certain that he'd been insulted. "Exactly what do you mean by that, wolf boy?"  
  
Willow stood up, not quite between them, but certainly in their lines of sight. "Umm... I'm sort of picking up a violent vibe off you two. Maybe... ummm... we, that is you two and me can go out and find somewhere that isn't Giles shop, and you can sort of look for evil dangerous things to fight? Instead of destroying Giles shop? Buffy needs to stay here and get caught up on the prophecy..."  
  
"You realize..." He'd barely begun his question before it hit him. She did realize, but she was trying to minimize the damage to Giles store. Patrol was her convenient excuse why they should go somewhere else to beat each other up. "Right... patrol for dangerous blokes. I think he and I can do that, and since you are the net girl, you can lead the way to any particular trouble spots."  
  
She got a bit paler, and swallowed hard. "Right. Umm... weapons are over here, which we might need for demons..." She grabbed a crossbow and a short sword, preparing herself. "If you two are ready, we can go now."  
  
They were nicely cooperative on the way out, and even managed to get almost a block away before the angry hostile glares began again.  
  
"Furball"  
  
"Leech"  
  
"umm... could you two wait with the non-human insults until we're out of town? I figured we could start near the stream, it's the sort of area that this one type of water demon likes, and umm... there's a nice open meadow that you two can beat each other up in without any random people seeing." Willow's voice was a bit nervous, but determined. She probably had that Resolve Face.  
  
They were quiet for a while, and then they reached the clearing. Pale light came down from the half moon, and there were small flowers and shrubs in the area. It was a pretty place, and it would be perfect for a bit fight. Spike paused for a moment, and shrugged out of his duster, handing it to Willow.  
  
"Hold this so it doesn't get scuffed up?"  
  
She reached out, touching his elbow, her eyes bright with emotions. "Spike... please, don't try to kill each other. Either of you. Just... beat out your issues, make your manly evaluations, and we can move on."  
  
The wolf nodded, his eyes twinkling with a bit of amusement. "Right... no attempted maiming or killing."  
  
"Whatever you say, luv. No permanent harm, but we have a few issues."  
  
end part 7.  
  
Willow stood there, watching the two Spikes in the moonlight. She'd suggested this clearing because it was out of the way, and technically, she could say they were checking for demons... although she didn't think there would be any water demons here. Just an isolated place for the vampire and werewolf to work out their problems. But... the moon was only a crescent, so how did wolfy Spike change? His eyes had changed last night, and he'd definitely had claws... Apparently, Garou werewolves were different than the type that Oz was.  
  
They looked so much alike at this moment, pale hair gleaming in the moonlight, the night leeching all traces of color from their skins, leaving them sculpted from alabaster. Garou Spike wore a gray shirt, and vampire Spike wore his usual black one, so she could still tell them apart. But she had the feeling that this would be... not the sort of thing for public display. It had an odd sort of feeling to it, almost like some sort of primal ritual that she couldn't quite understand.  
  
But... what about the chip? Could vampire Spike actually do this with the chip still functioning?  
  
The two were moving, carefully circling in the clearing, in part to study each others motions, and partly to get a better idea of the ground. Their lips were moving, and it was obvious that they were exchanging words, but they were to low for Willow to hear them.  
  
They didn't move quite the same. She couldn't put it into words, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to describe it to Giles, but... they didn't. There was a different feel to the movements of each Spike as they circled, and Willow wondered if it would carry through to their fighting style as well.  
  
Garou Spike made the first attack, a fist lashing out towards Vampire Spike's stomach, which he managed to evade, countering with a forceful strike at the upper arm, right by the shoulder. It connected with a solid noise that made Willow wince, and she could tell that the chip hadn't done anything as a reaction. Either Garou weren't within it's parameters, or after this, Xander was going to be so totally dead...  
  
Things began to move faster, and it was obvious to Willow that Garou Spike was stronger than Oz had been. They both had yellow eyes now, the moonlight blurring away the subtle difference in hues that she'd noticed in the Magic Box. There was also a faint growling, something that she felt more than heard, and she wasn't certain which one it was coming from. Both Spikes had been tossed into the ground, and irregular patterns of dirt now sullied their clothing.  
  
Willow felt something, like a subtle change in the air, and gasped. Garou Spike seemed to almost ripple, and as she watched, he got taller, fur sprouting over his arms, he face changing, taking on a markedly wolfen cast. Sharp teeth and pointed ears, a light layer of pale fur that matched his hair, his hands changed to dangerous talons... and as he shifted larger, his shoulders gaining size and muscle, the shirt gave way with the sounds of tearing fabric, hanging over him in tatters.  
  
"I think things have just stepped up a bit." She hoped that they still remembered that they weren't supposed to be trying to kill each other.  
  
Apparently, once he'd changed, Garou Spike, now ridiculously easy to distinguish from vampire Spike, was even stronger than in his human form. The fight continued, and Willow saw evidence that the claws were very sharp, as they ripped over Spike's arm, shredding the sleeve and drawing blood in bold red lines. Vampire Spike had drawn blood as well, and the bright rivulets of blood over the pale fur of Garou Spike's shoulder made Willow feel like cringing.  
  
She had no idea how long they remained that way, pummeling each other, claws raking over flesh, the scent of blood and sweat and an odd muskiness filling the air. She did notice that the shifting hadn't been the safest for the blue denim either, and it had split over both knees, and another one just below the seat, making Willow wonder how well the denim would survive this fight. Would this end with vampire Spike in... well, not in a shirt anymore, and Garou Spike naked? The image would have been a lot more appealing with a few less bruises and slashes on them both.  
  
At some sort of signal that Willow missed, they both stopped the fight. They stepped back, visibly calming themselves, and furry Spike slowly changed back, looking human again. The jeans looked like they'd barely survived, and it was now apparent that Garou Spike wasn't wearing anything under them. Vampire Spike's pants were mostly intact, and in no danger of exposing anything, something that Willow wasn't entirely certain was a benefit. She gave a small smile, convinced that had the duster been in the middle of that, it would have been destroyed.  
  
end part 8.  
  
"Do you two feel a bit better now? And ummm Spike? Not so furry anymore Spike, I mean... Your pants... ummm...maybe I should use a bit of magic to ahh... fix some of those rips? Unless you want to maybe flash your parts..." She could feel herself turning crimson already.  
  
He glanced at the rather battered pants, still valiantly clinging to his body, stained with mud and grass and blood, with gaping holes both as a result of sharp claws and from a few places where his shifted muscles had simply caused them to part, and winced, his cheeks turning a bit pink. "Ahhhh... right. Might be good if they actually cover. Can you do that?"  
  
Instead of answering, Willow closed her eyes, the image of him barely wearing the pants burned into her memory, and focused her power, sending out a small tendril to the poor abused denim, removing the stains as much as possible, repairing some of the rips and slashes. She was also aware of her power touching the similarly abused jeans of her Spike, repairing them and pulling out some of the stains. "Sorry, but the shirts are lost causes. You'll just have to do without."  
  
But the focus had been harder than she'd thought, and Willow swayed on her feet, feeling as if the ground was spinning under her. Vampire Spike was there, one arm around her, holding her against him, preventing her from falling.  
  
"You alright, Red? Don't want you to fall over..." His voice held worry, and an unexpected gentleness.  
  
"Everything was spinning for a moment... I think it was just that this had a lot tighter control than most of what I've been doing..." She glanced over at Garou Spike, noticing that his jeans still sported rips at the knees, and looked faded and slightly frayed, as if they'd been worn and laundered often. She could feel Spike's chest behind her, all smooth muscles and slick with... "I'm leaning on blood, aren't I?"  
  
  
  
She could hear the chuckle in his voice. "Only a little... and neither of us are dead. Well, not any more than when this started anyhow. He's not like your Sunnydale wolves. More control, instead of fighting an animal that will wake up as a person."  
  
Garou Spike shrugged, his muscles rippling with the gesture. "He's not like the vampires I'm used to either. He's a lot stronger than they are, and he's not using those bloody mind control tricks that they love so much. Things are a lot different here... so, what's Ripper like in your world?" His voice was subdued, as if the fight had made him realize just how different things were now.  
  
"Ripper?" Vampire Spike's question was a bit curious.  
  
"The older guy in the shop. He had glasses here... in my world, that's Ripper, our pack leader. The one shagging Dru." His voice was filled with unhappy emotions.  
  
Willow couldn't quite help herself. She had the sudden picture of Giles, minus the glasses and with a bit more muscle, snuggled up with Drusilla. "Oh, now that's not a mental image I needed... umm, he's human here. Giles is actually Buffy's Watcher, and the closest that he's come to being all supernaturally not normal is he knows a little magic. But we don't think we could try to send you home because we don't know how you got here."  
  
Spike chuckled, the vibration of it quite pleasant to Willow. "I'm trying to picture him furry... but I can picture him with Dru. She's quite the pretty thing..."  
  
Jealousy stabbed through Willow, despite her best efforts to prevent it. "Dru in this world is a vampire, and also Spike's umm... ex girlfriend and dark goddess. She's a bit... odd here as well, collects dolls, talks to the stars..."  
  
Now it was Garou Spike that had the odd look. "You mean he and Dru... sort of me and Dru? Now that's just... I don't think so. I prefer blondes anyhow."  
  
Willow wondered, and she couldn't quite stop the question. "Blonds like Buffy?"  
  
Garou Spike got a blissful expression. "Buffy... now that's a woman. Nice... curves, cute, and a fighter. She's probably got herself a nice bloke though."  
  
"They split up, and he left the country. Buffy doesn't have a nice bloke right now. Maybe if you're interested, you can change that." Willow felt a little urge to play matchmaker. Just a little nudge to see if they were interested in each other.  
  
"No? But... why not?" He looked entirely surprised.  
  
Willow gave a small shrug, still leaning against their Spike. She could have easily stood on her own by now, but she liked leaning against Spike. "It's harder to meet guys if you go hunting demons instead of attending parties. Then there's the whole sacred duty of saving the world that interferes with date plans... it's not easy to have a relationship while trying to save the world, and it pretty much has to be someone that knows what you do."  
  
With a glance at her, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he looked, Garou Spike asked another question. "What about you? Do you have a special bloke?"  
  
She half expected the pain of loss and heartbreak to well up again. To her surprise, while it still hurt, it wasn't nearly the same agonizing intensity that it had been before. "No, not anymore. My 'special guy' met a skanky girl, had wild furry skanky cheating sex, killed her, nearly killed me and then left town."  
  
His eyes widened, and he looked as if he was stunned by her answer. "Right... just forget I asked about that then."  
  
Spike wrapped his arms around Willow, keeping her close to him as he spoke. "Her now ex is one of the werewolves from this world. Not like you, and if he ever shows back up, I'm kicking his ass."  
  
"Is that how it is... I get it now."   
  
Whatever it was that Garou Spike 'got', Willow was certain that she was missing it entirely. With a small sigh, she decided that she'd rather memorize the moment in her Spike's arms instead of dwelling on it. After all, he was only holding her because he thought she was still lightheaded, right? Right?  
  
end part 9.  
  
He was watching them carefully, both the vampire with his face and the pretty redhead that had feelings for the vampire. Perhaps her initial kindness to him had simply been because he looked like her Spike. Although it didn't seem like they were actually involved, it was becoming more and more obvious to him that they wanted to be.  
  
It was also a big relief that the Garou weren't the same as the werewolves in this world. From the bits and pieces mentioned, it sounded like their changes were wholly dependant on the moon, and they retained very little awareness or control. They became entirely submerged in their rage, becoming little more than beasts. To him, it sounded like a bad horror movie.  
  
But if the vampires were different, and at the very least, this other Spike was different, then why couldn't the werewolves be different as well? And he'd certainly never heard magic or demons discussed so casually... as if they were encountered every day. Maybe in this place they were.  
  
His mind turned to Buffy, beautiful Buffy, chosen to be a warrior against the dangers of this world. A woman with the strength and reflexes to stand up to her foes, apparently abilities that were almost equal to one of the Garou. She was... perfect. At least, she seemed fairly close. And she was available... if he could convince her to think about him like that.  
  
A strange, unpleasant scent caught his attention, and he glanced around, attempting to both find the source of the scent and see if the others had noticed it. The vampire had noticed it, and his eyes had shifted yellow, a snarl on his expression.  
  
"Not a bloody Chaos Demon..." The dismay in the vampire's voice made him wonder exactly what a Chaos demon was.  
  
There was a rustling in the undergrowth, and there it was... he stepped back slightly in dismay. It looked almost like a man, but there was a rack of stag's antlers, and slime dripped from his body. It had to be the slime that carried the vile scent.  
  
"Is... is he going to cause us problems if we just sort of... leave him be?" Willow's voice sounded a bit worried, and a bit tense. Maybe she didn't like the scent either.  
  
The vampire shook his head in annoyance. "They aren't the most hostile of demons. More like mischief makers that bring up situations that you don't like, and in my case, some ugly memories."   
  
He had never been so pleased to not have to fight something. The smell was starting to turn his stomach, and he had the suspicion that it would cling to him if he touched the demon. That wasn't a scent he wanted to carry. Ever.  
  
They continued to move on, leaving the Chaos demon on his own. They came to a small cemetery, one with a large mausoleum, and a gathering of vampires, at least seven.  
  
"These we fight. They shouldn't be any problem for you, if you can fight me, these minions will be simple." The other Spike's voice showed his eagerness for a fight.  
  
He changed again, not to the full form of rage, but enough that he had the claws to rip flesh with, and a thin layer of fur to help prevent vampire talons from raking flesh. With a warning howl, he charged the vampires, their scent not quite the same as the one beside him, more dirty, and somehow... off. As if they weren't in balance. It wouldn't matter, they would fall before him.  
  
It was different to fight a groups rather than one individual, and he felt some of them score on him despite his advantages. They were stronger than the vampires of his world, but these seemed... rather dumb actually. Much more stupid than his vampire double, who was a rather smart bloke, if he did say so himself. He was going to have some bruises after this.  
  
The stupid vampires fell, and he glanced up in time to see two more going after Willow. The vampire Spike moved, a blur of speed as he ripped the closer one's throat out, causing a spray of ashes to fall to the ground.  
  
He looked over to Willow, expecting panic on her face, for her to be afraid. She was afraid, but not panicked, and whispered a few shaky words before throwing a fist sized ball of green yellow fire at the remaining attacker. He screamed, for a moment engulfed in yellow flames before falling to the ground as ashes.   
  
Not so helpless after all. That fire had been an impressive thing. He found himself wondering how strong she was, how much she could accomplish with her power.  
  
The thought was slightly unsettling. The Garou tended to be cautious about mages who were not born to their people. How could you know what they would do, if they had ethics? But the only other magic user he'd ever met that might be able to do something like that was Dru.  
  
Part of him wondered if that meant she could send him home, if they ever figured out how. Another part, filled with the image of Buffy wondered if he really wanted to go back.  
  
"Fight's over, we won." The vampire's voice was slightly smug, and he could see him over there, making certain Willow wasn't hurt.  
  
It was so obvious now that the vampire wanted her. He could certainly see the attraction, and Willow was very pretty. But not quite his type.   
  
end part 10. 


	2. parts 11 to 18, the end Fur and Fangs

They meandered around a bit longer, and he had the impression that Willow's real goal had been to allow them to have their fight, and to then make them see that they could work together. To set up a situation where they would realize it on their own.  
  
Apparently, she'd been paying attention, and the vampire Spike was just as bad about not wanting to follow orders as he was. Willow was smart, and she should be easily capable of keeping him on his toes, or rather, the vampire.  
  
It was also rather funny to see the pair of them sneaking glances when they thought they wouldn't be noticed. Almost as if they didn't want anyone to know that they liked each other. All someone would have to do would be watch their body language, it was filled with passionate yearning.  
  
Maybe if he asked a few questions, it might distract them from that little game of can I watch without getting caught. "So... why were those vampires so different from you?"  
  
"They were bloody minions!" His voice was indignant, as if the question was somehow insulting. "I'm the Childe of Angelus, who was the Childe of Darla, Childe of the Master of the Order of Aurelius! Of course I'm better than some bloody expendable minion."  
  
Willow looked over, the questions and thoughts shining in her eyes. "You... are there minion vampires in your world? What sort of levels of power do they have?"  
  
He gave a small shrug. "Vampires were never my area of expertise. But they're not idiots. They start out as normal people, and end up fanged, mind-controlling lee... well, not too different but with fangs and a bloody diet."  
  
The vampire was still muttering about minions and not wanting to be insulted. Willow glanced over, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Umm... I guess I'll explain it then. Not all vampires are created or turned equal. I'm a bit fuzzy on the actual details of the methods, but I think it has to do with how much of their Sire's blood they're given. Most people who are turned wake up as minions, like the ones we just dusted. Minions aren't very bright, they don't generally have any useful skills. Their whole purpose is to put another body between their master and danger, or to be another body to throw at his or her enemies. They're expendable."  
  
She paused for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. "But sometimes, a vampire decides that a person has something they want to keep. Useful skills, or they want to make them part of the family, so they make them a Childe. Childer are stronger than minions, and they have all the memories, skills and intelligence that they had before. Those are the ones that can be expected to last a while, to grow up to become Masters in their own right. The dangerous ones."  
  
"I suppose that makes a bit more sense. Got your bloody Igor's, and the ones you want to keep around. At least I didn't show up and find I'm expendable." If Childer had to be created carefully, then obviously this Angelus person had found appealing qualities in his double. Something more than being good in a fight. It wasn't logical, but it gave him a warm, almost proud feeling.  
  
"Of course I'm not expendable! I'm the big bad! I've killed two Slayers and saved the world! I am Spike!" The vampire sounded a bit indignant.  
  
"and as soon as you get that chip out of your head... unless it already stopped working somehow, which could be a complication... umm... quiet Willow, stop talking to yourself while Spike's having a 'big evil' moment." Willow's soft words were actually amusing.  
  
He didn't like the idea of the vampire killing Slayers. That brought up images of Buffy, and he didn't want to think of her injured by someone that looked like him. "Maybe we should go back. Get some rest, have these injuries looked at. Red looks a bit tired."  
  
The vampire grinned at Willow. "Going to patch me up, Red? Kiss the owies and make them all better?"  
  
She turned crimson, and there was an incoherent squeak before she looked over to him, and asked a simple question. "Who will patch up Garou Spike?"  
  
A thought leapt into his head, and he voiced it, hoping that it would work well for him. "Maybe I can ask Buffy to help me with these."  
  
Willow smiled, a devious gleam in her eyes. "Right, you go ask Buffy to patch you up. Be sure to say that it was from the demons... Otherwise she'll go off on this rant about how the two of you shouldn't be wasting your time with manly cases of testosterone overload. Don't whine about it hurting, but if you look at her with those blue eyes, maybe just a little hint of widening there... and the no shirt part will definitely help you. Yeah, go ask Buffy to help you. I can make sure this Spike is okay."  
  
Part of him wondered about that gleam, trying to figure out if he should worry. But it was quickly lost in the eagerness to see Buffy again.  
  
  
  
end part 11.  
  
He had no trouble finding his way to Buffy's house. He'd already been there, and it had her scent all over, flavored with a hint of her vanilla body wash. A nice, comfortable house, somewhere that felt like a home, instead of just a place to sleep and eat. He knocked on the door, feeling a bit nervous.  
  
A light came on, and the wooden door behind the screen opened, revealing Buffy in a pair of dark slacks and this pale blue shirt, the light almost making her appear to be glowing. "Hey it... oh, Spike? What happened? You're bleeding... I'll get the first aid kit."  
  
Following her inside, he could feel one sort of tension leaving him, and he stood a bit awkwardly, not wanting to stain her furniture with the blood. It was nice furniture, soft fuzzy looking beige with a muted print, and it looked soft, comfortable. The sort of furniture that made a person relax and feel welcome.  
  
She came back, arms full of a box with a brown bottle that looked like Hydrogen Peroxide, and a few towels, and a pair of sweat pants. "What happened to you? I mean... your clothing..." Her eyes traveled slowly over his body, lingering over his naked chest. "And I know you weren't injured earlier."  
  
He remembered Willow's careful warning, and decided to follow it. "Since the other Spike and I were tense, Willow suggested that we go on a patrol. There were some vampires, and there was this thing covered with disgusting slime in the woods..." He neglected to mention that they hadn't fought the slimy thing, and that part of these injuries were the result of him and the vampire Spike taking the measure of each other.  
  
"Slime? Yuck, definitely going to need the peroxide then... At least you two didn't spend the whole night glaring and growling at each other." She used one towel, dampened with warm water to wipe away the blood and dirt, her eyes worried and holding something more than simple concern over his injuries. Her motions were slow, with particular care, and a decided gentleness.  
  
The feeling of her hands running over his skin was causing most interesting sensations, like a fire burning hot inside of him, an anticipation and excitement unlike anything he'd felt with any other woman. But none of them could have been his equal. He wasn't certain if he wanted her to notice the effect that she was having on him or not. But he was definitely breathing a bit faster.  
  
"Spike... are you... your eyes have that golden thing going. Are you okay? Not wigging out on me, are you?" Her voice held worry, and it was worry based in bad experiences of the past.  
  
Spike could remember the little hints that Willow's words had given him, about how difficult it was to have a normal life with a sacred duty. How Buffy had lost her bloke and he'd run out of the very country to leave her. He didn't want to frighten her off. "I'm not... wigging, you said? It's just... You're beautiful, Buffy."  
  
She gave a small snort. "You're eyes went yellow because I'm pretty. Yeah, right..." As she looked away to put the towel away, her eyes fell lower, and paused right over... certain evidence that he found her more than 'pretty'. "oh my..."  
  
"Not just pretty, luv. Bloody beautiful..."  
  
Her eyes met his, shining with hope even as her words were tinged with sorrow. "But I... guys have this problem with me."  
  
"I'm not afraid of your strength, and if you let me, I could be right there with you defending the world. But who's there to defend you? Who's there to hold you when the fight is over? Who can remind you that you aren't just a warrior, but a woman?" His voice held a slight tremor of hope and need.  
  
The words were barely more than a whisper. "Are you offering?"  
  
"If you'll have me." He felt hope stir in his heart, even as something far closer to lust stirred in his blood and his body.  
  
Her response was to draw closer, her fingers trailing down from his shoulder, tracing over his chest, feather light down his stomach. The path that they'd traced felt almost burning with sensation. "That sounds very good."  
  
The words had barely registered to his mind before her lips found his, and they were kissing.  
  
  
  
end part 12.  
  
Willow watched as the other Spike left them, clearly eager to see Buffy. It was so obvious that he wanted her, that Buffy had managed to snare yet another wonderful guy's heart. She could only wish... but it would do no good to dwell on what if's and if only's. Her crush on Xander had taught her that.  
  
"He's got it bad, poor bloke." Spike's voice pulled her away from her wistful thoughts to more clearly here and now.  
  
"Yeah... but you make it sound like that's a bad thing. He doesn't have that evil clause in a soul curse that meant she couldn't be with Angel, he's not going to get jealous of her Slayer abilities and shatter her trust and leave the country like Riley, and he's... well, he's sort of you, so he's loyal. Not to mention good looking, so why is it a bad thing for him to want Buffy?" She wasn't certain why Spike seemed annoyed by the fact.  
  
"Only if... yeah, he likes her. But how does she feel about him?" There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. "Ahhh, why should I care about the Slayer's love life? Think I can convince you to patch me up? Kiss the boo-boos away?"  
  
For a moment, her mind raced away, turning the simple idea of tending Spike's wounds into a rampant seduction sequence, ending in... Well, she shook her head, aware that the real Spike was still there, looking at her. He looked a bit puzzled, making Willow wonder just how long she'd let herself follow that little fantasy. She could feel herself blushing. "Sorry, I got... never mind. I can patch you up. Walk with me?"  
  
The walk back started quiet, the sort of silence that is filled with thoughts. Willow wondered what Spike was thinking, even as part of her mind continued that little fantasy and another part worried about Buffy and the living Spike. "I think they'll do alright. Buffy and the other Spike, I mean."  
  
Spike gave her a sideways glance, and she could see the little muscle behind his jaw tense a bit. "Bloody wonderful for him. Someone might as well get who they want."  
  
The silence lasted right up to the point where they turned onto Maple Street.  
  
"This isn't the way to the dorms, Red." Spike's voice was tinged with puzzlement.  
  
She almost smiled. "I know. We aren't going to the dorms, we're going to the Rosenberg house. I've got bandages and stuff there... and um... I picked up some blood for you earlier."  
  
He looked stunned, and the silence lasted until they reached the door, and he followed her up the steps, pausing on the small porch while she unlocked the door. The yard was looking overgrown, and the shrubbery had reverted to a wild shape that only said bush, no longer the neat ovals that her mother had landscaped.  
  
She pushed the door open, one hand automatically reaching over to turn on the lights. Her softly murmured "Come in, Spike" hung in the air.  
  
She could hear his boots on the floor, not loud, but noticeable. It was oddly reassuring to know that she wasn't entirely alone in the house. "Follow me, I've got the blood in the kitchen."  
  
She settled the first aid kit on the counter beside him, and from the mostly empty refrigerator pulled a bag containing Red Cross blood units.  
  
"That's... Willow, you got me human blood?" His voice was filled with surprise.  
  
She could feel herself blushing again. "Yeah... I remembered how nasty you said the pig's blood was, and pig blood isn't kosher, so... umm, I thought it might help you heal."  
  
Carefully, she cleaned his injuries as he drank the blood, noting his near ecstatic expression. 'Right, you are a sad, sad person Willow. Giving the vampire you have a hopeless crush on human blood just so you can see that look on his face and pretend that it's for you... just so you'll know how his face looks lost in pleasure to add that little detail to your fantasies... sick and sad and hopeless.' Her inner monolog was disturbed by a question from Spike, something she didn't even catch. "Pardon? I was... umm... I didn't catch that."  
  
"I asked if you'd ever considered moving on after your mutt boy. Ever considered trying the whole relationship thing again." There was still an intensity to his gaze.  
  
She could feel herself blushing again. Had he known, or was the question coincidental? "I... well, I didn't mean to. There's someone that I've sort of found myself... liking."  
  
Something flickered in his eyes, and his left hand briefly clenched into a fist. "Does that mean you're going to go after some lucky bloke?"  
  
"No." Some of her dismay must have showed in her voice. "I mean, I like him, and he's... handsome and smart and all. But there's two major problems. One of them is that I absolutely suck at relationships, the other is that he's still... hung up on his ex. It was an ugly break up. So, he wouldn't be interested in me. If he wouldn't be interested, there's no point in making any umm... moves, because he'd just say no. Which would lead to embarrassment and humiliation and that's just bad."  
  
"It would have to be quite an ex to compare to someone like you." Spike's voice was low, and there was a hint of something underneath, something that had to be important. If only she could figure out what it was...  
  
Willow looked away from Spike, eyes now focused on the first aid kit. "She was everything to him... and she broke his heart. Even if I could find the courage to say anything, it's unlikely that he'd be over her. After all, how to you just move on when the person who defined your whole world isn't there anymore?"  
  
Spike's voice was thoughtful, and soft, as if he was edging around some secret. "Maybe it's time his world changed. Nobody can spend forever in the past."  
  
"What about you? Have you moved on after the whole thing with Dru?" His words sounded almost reasonable, and they inspired a wild, crazed hope that sprouted inside, reaching up through her like a vine on fast forward.  
  
Spike looked at her, his eyes slightly narrowed. "I've decided to never let someone else become everything, to never again let my whole self be defined by one person. But as for another serious relationship... I've got a few standards, and most people just don't meet them."  
  
Hope thrummed under her skin like a second heartbeat, and her words were a soft whisper. "What if you did meet someone that met them?"  
  
"I just have to convince her that I can meet her standards. That I can be the sort of guy she needs and deserves."  
  
Part of her mind was trying to analyze the way he'd phrased that. "But... I thought you weren't going to change who you were for someone?"  
  
"Facets, luv. There's more to me than just one thing. Dru wanted me to be the big bad, and part of me will always be that. But it's not all of who and what I am. For her... I want her to see me as more than just a bad man. Even if I do look all sexy." There was something in his eyes, an intensity that had to be important.  
  
"Of course there's more to you than just the coat and the look, which is really... sexy. But... umm... what about telling her... you have someone in mind, don't you? How will you tell her about being a vampire?" Something seemed to wobble inside of her. Spike had his eye on someone. He'd found someone that he wanted.  
  
"I don't think that will be my big problem this time around."  
  
Willow was left to puzzle over that as she cleaned up the kitchen. It was important, but she couldn't quite think logically around the bleak lump of dread. Could she stand seeing Spike happy with someone else? She tried to remind herself that he wasn't hers, that he'd never been hers. It almost worked. "Good luck with convincing her."  
  
  
  
end part 13.   
  
Spike felt like beating something to death. Slowly. He even had to admit that it might be just a little bit his own fault. If he'd only figured out sooner that he liked Willow, then maybe, just maybe he could have set about trying to prove that he wasn't just a monster, that there was also the man within him. Maybe then he could have a chance to be the 'someone' that she had her eye on. But no, he'd been an oblivious idiot and hadn't realized how important she was until he'd seen her smiling up at that other Spike.  
  
It was annoying to be partly responsible for his own frustrated misery. He finally figures out that he wants the woman, and she's got her eyes on some guy... and not even someone that would appreciate her, no, his red had to fall for someone hung up on his ex. Someone that would never see her for the treasure that she was. Someone that was probably human, meaning he couldn't go rip him into pieces for putting that sad wistful look into her eyes.  
  
She had wished him good luck at convincing his someone that he was good enough, that he wasn't just a big bad.  
  
Considering that the lady in question was Willow herself, who had her eyes on someone, he would need all the luck he could get. Good luck had never been his strong point.  
  
He really needed something to kill. This frustration and aggravation would drive him crazy otherwise. The chip meant that the something had to be demon, vampire, or the other Spike, since he somehow didn't get counted in by the chip. Furry Spike had been too busy with the Slayer to have a nice stress reducing fight. It was annoying, and boring. Spike hated boredom.  
  
"What does it take for a bloke to get a decent break?" He glanced skywards, not really expecting any sort of answer.  
  
It was only a few moments after he'd spoken that he caught the scent of blood on the slight breeze. The Slayer's blood, and also from the other Spike, not very much from either, but he noticed it. Turning, he waited, wondering what the two of them had found.  
  
They smelled like each other, a sure sign that they'd been close before the fight, the sort of close that said they were getting along very well indeed, and the pair of them were verging on a sexual relationship. He felt a line of acid envy curl in his guy, not that the wolf had Buffy, but that he had the person that filled his dreams.  
  
"Spike... we have a problem. Hope you're still up for a little demon bashing." Buffy's voice carried a hint of worry.  
  
He could feel himself perk up. Finally, the chance to do something! "What's the problem?"  
  
"We ran into two of these creepy looking demons, tall and skinny with these sort of lavender gray scales. And they made this horribly annoying clacking noise... Anyhow, the serious part is that they have the rest of their group somewhere, planning to open the 'Mouth of Darkness' and I have a guess exactly what this mouthy thing is." Buffy was frowning as she spoke.  
  
"The Hellmouth... if they're trying some sort of ritual, we should get Willow." Part of him was delighted at the chance to do something, to have a channel for his aggression. Another part was both worried that Willow could get hurt, and aware that she needed to be challenged, to have things to do.  
  
Buffy sighed, leaning back against her Spike. "I tried to ring her at the dorm, but there wasn't an answer."  
  
"Try the Rosenberg house, where her parents' mail goes." He remembered how she'd tended his wounds there, even having blood in the refrigerator for him.  
  
Buffy poked in the number, a small frown of concentration of her face, followed by impatience as the phone rang. Spike listened carefully, hoping to hear Willow's side of the conversation.  
  
:Hello? Rosenberg residence...: She sounded uncertain. Perhaps it was just the slightly hollow sound the connection gave her voice.  
  
"Willow? Thank goodness. We have a demony situation. Some gray lavender things, tall and skinny, wanting to open the mouth." Buffy's worry was showing again. "Think you can help any?"  
  
:Of course I can help! I think I have just the thing... Shall I meet you guys there?: She sounded almost offended.  
  
"Yeah... meet us there. Me and both Spikes. Hurry, Willow." Buffy ended the connection, a lock of hair falling into her face.  
  
"So, where exactly is this mouth?" The other Spike's voice held a small trace of amusement.  
  
"Right in the middle of our high school library. Or at least, where the library of the high school used to be before we blew the whole thing up." Buffy's voice sounded almost calm, but there was just a hint of teasing underneath.  
  
When had they become comfortable enough around each other to tease? He felt a flicker of confusion, and a bit of jealousy, wishing that Willow was that comfortable with him. "Best get a move on it then. Don't want Red to take on all the demons by herself."  
  
  
  
end part 14.  
  
He saw Willow, the moonlight shimmering on her hair, turning her skin to alabaster. He felt a little stirring of a very old, long ignored part deep inside of him, the part that had once been the source of pages and pages of bad poetry. Willow would be the perfect inspiration.  
  
"You said they wanted to open the mouth, so I got some things for a binding ritual. And umm... good evening to both Spikes." She ducked her head, blushing some as she let her hair fall like a crimson curtain between herself and the world.  
  
She looked as if she was trying to hide from the world, even as she prepared to try to save it. He also noticed that she had packed a few extra smaller weapons, just in case, and it looked like there was a red candle peeking out of her bulging backpack.  
  
"Evening to you, Willow." Why was it that with her, his confidence abandoned him? He lost his smooth charm, his confidence. Maybe it was because she had slipped inside of him, gaining a real hold on his heart. A harsh word from her would hurt, and if she rejected him...  
  
She looked at him, and smiled, a slightly sad, shy smile that was still beautiful. "Hey... I brought you a few things... umm... the description sort of sounded like something I was indexing for Giles, so I grabbed a few steel weapons... if they're Malat demons, they have problems with iron and steel, and if they aren't, well... iron and steel don't break easily." She pulled out a knife that she passed to the other Spike, and with a slight tremor to her hand, passed him an axe and a pair of metal shapes that at first his mind refused to identify, but a faint hint of oil and diesel smoke gave it away. Railroad spikes.  
  
"You brought me railroad spikes? You've been reading up on me... can do a lot of damage with these." He wasn't quite sure what to say. He'd always found them versatile and convenient, but... he didn't want Willow dwelling on the violence and mayhem in his past. He didn't want her to look at him and see a violent, rampaging demon.  
  
She blushed and looked away, for a moment intently studying a tuft of grass forcing it's way up a crack in the sidewalk. "I remember that you said they were easy to work with, and these demons sound like trouble. And, umm... since we're going to be in a fight anyhow, and you still can't go hurting humans, why not let you have a little fun while we go?"  
  
An oddly warm feeling filled him, and it stayed until they reached the scorched and shattered remnants of the high school. Bits of shriveled near charcoal flesh littered the halls, and he wondered what could be so vile that even the scavengers over the hellmouth wouldn't eat it.  
  
"Try not to slip on any rubble or the bits of Mayor McDemon, okay?" Buffy's voice was filled with a tension, and an obvious distaste for being here.  
  
Spike glanced at the ground again, no longer quite certain that he'd wanted to know what the chunks were. Not that he would let anyone know, after all he was the Big Bad, the scary Master vampire... he tortured people to death and had left a bloody swathe through Europe, walking on crispy bits of someone shouldn't be any problem at all. Really. Well, as long as nobody ever guessed that it made his stomach a bit uneasy, he'd be fine. But burning... he couldn't quite resist a shudder.  
  
"Can you feel it?" Willow's voice was low, and had an odd almost echoing quality to it that made the hair on the back of his neck rise.  
  
That was power in her voice. He could also feel the power in the air, cold and almost greasy feeling, undoubtedly the power from the hellmouth. Something in Willow was trying to respond to that power, causing her voice to go odd like that.  
  
Buffy looked tense, one hand clenched around a wickedly curving weapon related to an axe with a few more sharp bits around the edges. She was half crouched, and he could tell that she was alert for the faintest hint of danger. Furry Spike was growling low in his chest, and looked a bit taller, a bit rougher and furrier around the edges. Apparently, he had shifted slightly in response to the evil power, registering it as a danger to be guarded against.  
  
"Right... all we have to do now is find the demons, stop their ritual, and kill them all. It would help if we knew where and how many." His voice was only slightly tinged with sarcasm.  
  
"Library, or whatever's left of it. Same place you discovered that you could still hit demons." Buffy sounded tense.  
  
Willow's voice was slightly distracted, and that odd echoing effect had intensified, now sounding as if she had two voices not quite in synch with each other. "There are nine of them... three casting and six warriors... They're still preparing their circle."  
  
Spike wasn't certain that he wanted to know how Willow had known that. Best to simply move on with the fighting of the bad guys and hope that everyone got out as alive as they went in. He moved to stand beside Willow, his fingers brushing lightly over her arm, feeling something prickle at his skin. "Nine of them. I was hoping for a cure to boredom. Lead on, Slayer."  
  
It was almost too soon that they entered the scorched and cracked walls of what had once been the library. Six tall demons, the darkness leaving them ominously gray, holding blades stood between them and the open area, a place where three more, the same type only shorter and frailer were chanting softly, pouring small bags of colored sand into intricate patterns that formed a triangular design on the floor.  
  
Both Spikes and Buffy leapt towards the warrior demons, weapons in hand. Spike was eager for violence, and was actually looking forward to the chance to kill something or several somethings to vent his frustration over his non-relationship with Willow. The fighting was intense, and he could feel the frustrations melting away, evaporated by the heat of battle. He was aware of Willow, standing in a place where the fighting oddly didn't quite go, her lips moving, her hair streaming in an unseen wind, golden light surrounding her hands as she reached towards the trio of demon mages.  
  
There was a feeling, almost like an explosion, and a brief... well, more like the after-image of a flash without the flash, and the three demon mages collapsed. Willow walked towards the place that they had been, and began carefully kicking all their precise lines into a colorful disarray, the tip of her tongue barely visible between her lips.  
  
She would be the death of him yet.  
  
Finally, the last demon warrior collapsed, blood that was just a few shades off the red of a human's gushing around a sharpened railroad spike. The library fell quiet, no, not quiet but ominously silent, with the very air feeling to thick. Something was going to happen. He only hoped that it wouldn't be something catastrophic.  
  
Then Willow looked over at them, her eyes orbs of pure black, power crackling all around her, making her into a dark goddess of fire and shadow. She looked beautiful and terrifying, and he had a bad feeling about her standing in the middle of the sand from the demons' mystical workings.  
  
  
  
end part 15.  
  
  
  
Willow could feel the power in the air, and the feeling had only increased when she'd touched the lines of the diagram that the demons had been establishing. The feeling was sort of the magical equivalent of picking up a live electric wire, a bit painful, and lots of energy that wasn't quite the right sort to flow easily through her. But it was trying... the same way that they'd been trying to harness it's energy, to unleash it's power to enhance themselves.  
  
The power was there, and it needed to be shaped into something, otherwise it would flow out, just seeking anything that it could slip into, any thing that could receive the dark power of the hellmouth. That was just the perfect recipe for disaster, which was why she couldn't allow that to happen.  
  
With this power, she could... the ideas and images flickered through her mind, almost too fast to follow. Images of destroying her enemies, wielding and controlling power unmatched by any of her rivals... But she didn't have rivals. The images were coming from the hellmouth, a temptation to try to use it's power, to fill herself with it's darkness.  
  
The temptation was powerful, and it was only now that she realized that the diagram was not meant to contain the power of the hellmouth but to tap it. To connect them to this power, enabling them to perform their real ritual, intended to infuse the power of the hellmouth into their clan. Now, instead to the power being carefully channeled and accessible to them, it was flowing into her.  
  
This was a very bad thing.  
  
Glancing down at her hand, she discovered that her skin seemed to have gotten paler, and almost looked as if it was glowing from within. Deep green power flowed around her in a flickering aura, and she could feel her hair shifting in a non existent wind. The sands were glowing, adding an uncanny yet impressive looking light. She found that she could see everything, the darkness of the ruined library no impediment to her eyes.  
  
She looked up, discovering Buffy staring at her, the entire left sleeve of her shirt gone, several cuts on her arms, a darkening bruise over her right eye, and dark reddish stains over her pants and the rest of her shirt, staring at Willow in what looked like horrified dismay. Garou Spike... he'd changed a good deal more than he had before, and now stood almost nine feet tall, his head reminding her of nothing more than a pale wolf, his body covered with pale fur bristled into a furry mass, a low growl filling his chest, ears tipped back. She had no idea what had happened to his clothing... oh, there was part of it over there, torn apart at the seams. As for her Spike, he was looking at her, his eyes wide with surprise. He looked a bit worse for wear as well, and sharp claws had ripped his shirt open, exposing his chest.  
  
They were all staring at her in dismay and surprise. Apparently the glowing thing looked not good. She was inclined to agree with them, and then it dawned on her.  
  
She had all the ingredients needed for a binding ritual. There was bountiful power. And a prophecy on their side for once.  
  
She could seal the hellmouth.  
  
With a gesture, she caused her fallen backpack of supplies to cross the empty space, essentially leaping into her hand, and she started pulling out supplies, setting red candles around the spilled sand, a flicker of will igniting them as she placed them in a circle. She followed the circle of fire with one of water and air, pouring out a careful blend of diluted aromatic oils of sandalwood and cedar and violets.  
  
"Spike... both Spikes actually... come here. I can close this if you'll help me." Willow noticed for the first time the echoing of her voice, making it sound like a small flock of Willow's speaking instead of just one. She could try to decipher why later.  
  
Vampire Spike approached first, his expression still a bit wary, but filled with a look of... almost awe. It was as if he had looked at her and saw some glorious vision. He walked towards her, one hand raising up, fingers spread, reaching towards her as if to touch her, to run his fingers over her skin.  
  
"This is pretty impressive, Red. Although I thought there were only two good reasons..." His voice was subdued, but the last bit held a bit of his normal flirtatious confidence.  
  
She wasn't in the least surprised this time by the rush of images those words brought to her mind. A small smile flickered over her face. "I'd think there would be a few to many people for the second option, and we already did the first one. But you're still bleeding, I can use that if you don't want me to draw any more. You two are the Darkened Mirrors and the Twinned Blood. If you will, well, the blood is sort of a mark that you both want this sucker closed. Like a signature on a legal document.  
  
The werewolf that was also Spike came near, his fur flattening down and his ears pinned back. He reached out one wickedly clawed hand, and with a voice several octaves deeper that normal, spoke. "Do it. Close the damn thing."  
  
Her spike glanced over at the currently towering werewolf, and gave a small scowl. "Not going to let some bloody fur ball show me up. Go ahead and do it."  
  
She felt a warm glow of something that wasn't quite pride at their actions. They were trusting her to do what she'd said, to seal the hellmouth. She closed her eyes and began the chanting, her words calling on balance in nature, and demanding that this place be brought one step closer to balance and order by sealing the hellmouth, to prevent it from opening and spilling forth evil creatures. Her words did not call on the powers of specific gods, as she had learned how easily their natures could be concealed. She called on the powers of Good and protection, and on the forces of nature. As a seal, she drew a knife blade across the hands of both Spike's, allowing a token amount of blood to fall to the ground.  
  
There was a small tremor in the earth as their blood fell, and something much more powerful that was felt, but not from the physical world. It was as if there had been a loud clap of thunder right here, and it made her head ring and throb.  
  
The candles extinguished themselves, and the glow from the sand stopped at once, in the time of a single slow heartbeat. She felt as if the world had slowed around her, and her pulse was like a slow tide in her ears. When she spoke, her voice was a single, low sound, and almost sounded as if she were underwater. "It's closed."  
  
Everything went dark and she could feel herself begin to fall.   
  
She was completely unconscious by the time Spike caught her, before she'd actually hit the floor. She was the only person who missed the careful, tender way that he brushed her hair from her face. Missed the look of naked worry on his face.  
  
"I think she needs some rest. I'll take her home, you two can go... whatever you want that doesn't require him to have his pants anymore." The vampire wasn't even looking at the Slayer or Garou as he gathered up Willow, intent on carrying her back to a safe place to rest.  
  
  
  
end part 16.  
  
  
  
Her next awareness was of pain. She felt as if everything were bruised, and as if her body had been drained of everything, shriveled and stiff like a dry sponge. Her head was throbbing, and it was with what felt like great slowness that she realized the loud pounding was her heartbeat, now returned to normal speed.  
  
  
  
Eventually, she gathered her courage, and slowly opened her eyes. She was in her bedroom at the Rosenberg house, laying on her bed half undressed. It was dark, but she could still see everything clearly. The stars outside were twinkling in a clear sky, and there was something different about them, they almost seemed happier, if the term could be applied to the shining of distant stars.  
  
The biggest surprise was that Spike was sitting vigil over her bed, his hands clasped as he watched her. His blue eyes were looking at her, bright with so many emotions, worry and joy and... something that looked more intense, more personal. It reminded her of the look in Oz's eyes back when he'd loved her... It was almost too much to hope for, that Spike could care for her.  
  
"Spike?" Her voice was a bare ragged whisper, and her throat felt as if she'd screamed it raw at some point... but she didn't remember anything like that happening.  
  
He twitched as if startled, and picked up one pale hand in his own, one hand beneath hers, the other curling almost protectively over the top. "How do you feel, luv? You collapsed at the school..."  
  
"Was there screaming? My throat thinks there was, but I don't remember any... and everything hurts." She had to make sense of everything. And the way he was looking at her, with so much concern and tenderness... Maybe she was actually having a dream? But why would she hurt so much if it were a dream?  
  
"No luv, no screaming. But when you chanted... back at the school you had too many voices. Maybe that's what's wrong with your throat. I was a bit worried when you didn't wake up..."  
  
Didn't wake up? What had he meant by that? "How long... and what happened to my clothes?"  
  
He shifted a bit, looking uncomfortable, almost embarrassed. "Ahhh... I took them off of you. You seemed pretty out of it, and I didn't think it would be too comfortable staying in them until you woke up. That was yesterday, by the way."  
  
"Yesterday..." She was stunned. How had she lost an entire day? And he still had that look in his eyes, the one that made her hope that he cared. "Have you been here the whole time?"  
  
He turned, reaching with one hand to grab a glass of water. "Thought you might be thirsty... I've been sitting here with you. I... I was worried."  
  
Her hand was shaking as she carefully sat up, reaching for the water. She could feel it's coolness spreading through her, soothing her sore throat. "You were worried about me? But... what about... I thought you'd be... maybe trying to spend time with the woman who finally measures up?"  
  
"What makes you think I haven't been?"  
  
Hope flared inside her, more powerful than the hellmouth had been. "But... has there been anyone here besides me and you?"  
  
His thumb was rubbing gently over her hand, the skin hypersensitive to his touch. "No... nobody else. I just... well, it's feeling, not brains. Probably not much of a chance, considering that you said you had a thing for someone hung up on is ex, but... When you collapsed, it hit me that if you never knew, it would be even worse than if I told you how I felt and you pushed me away."  
  
"Me? This special woman that caught your interest is... me?" Hope and astonishment filled her voice, apparently obvious even to Spike, who looked up at her, his eyes intense and brilliant, blue as... as forever.  
  
He gave a small, almost shy smile, reaching out to brush over her cheek. "You, luv. Why would that be such a surprise? But what about..."  
  
Her voice was shaking, and still far weaker than she liked. "But... I thought you were still all hung up over Dru. Remember her? Your dark goddess, your princess, your bloody everything? When... how..."  
  
"You made her go away. There will always be a place for her in my heart and my past, but... when I look into the future, the only person I want to see is you. It's your image that fills my dreams, not hers. Only you. Why were you so worried about Dru..." his words trailed of into stunned silence, and then hope filtered into his eyes. "Did you... could it be... oh, bloody hell, I've started babbling like you do, luv."  
  
Willow couldn't help it, she started to giggle. "Of course it's you, silly. I just didn't think you'd want me. Remember, all human, and alive? And I remembered how upset you were about her... I figured I'd never have a chance."  
  
"Sounds like a right comical thing. I didn't want to tell you on account of thinking you might not want a monster, and you didn't want to tell me for thinking I was still hung up over Dru." He had this shining, intense look in his eyes. "Maybe... since we know that I'm not still hung up on her... Am I as wrong about things as you were?"  
  
Her head was spinning, and she was certain that it wasn't all from being weak after the binding. "Oh, Spike... how can a smart guy like you be so silly... you haven't been just a scary vampire for a long time. I knew there was a lot more to you than the Big Bad when you kidnapped me and Xander. How did you put it? Facets. You have them, just like I do, just like everyone does. Of course, you are a vampire, so days at the beach and picnic lunches would be out, but that doesn't mean we couldn't try... If your willing to try that is. I mean, everyone looked a bit freaked in the library, so you might not want to try..."  
  
"Luv, you were gorgeous... all fire and shadow. Glowing with power, like Tolkein's elves are supposed to be. The thing with your eyes was a bit unsettling..." He shook his head, a small smile on his face. "So you do see the facets."  
  
Willow remembered her hand looking as if it was glowing, but what had he meant by her eyes? "Spike? What do you mean 'the thing with my eyes'? What did my eyes do?"  
  
"You didn't know? Luv, they went solid black." He looked a bit surprised.  
  
Her eyes had gone black? Willow shivered, remembering the whispered temptations of the hellmouth. "I was being tempted by the power of the hellmouth. Sort of the 'Luke, come to the dark side and together we can rule the galaxy.' Except that Vader looks better than the hellmouth. The Master looked better than the Hellmouth."  
  
"Tempted by the dark side, hmm? By the Hellmouth?" Spike looked impressed. "Would it be vanity to ask if I look better?"  
  
She looked at him, filled with hope, and smiled. "You look lots better. So... if you aren't scared of briefly black eyed Willow... umm, did they go back to normal? If you aren't afraid to try a relationship with me... then I'm not afraid to try a relationship with you."  
  
He smiled, his eyes flecked with amber. "Trust me, Willow, I'm not afraid of a relationship with a dangerous woman. The idea's actually a bit of a turn on. Now, if you can deal with the whole vampire thing... this might have a chance."  
  
Remembering all the naughty images that had gone through her mind, she smiled at him. "I think I can deal with the blood thing. Maybe... hmm... maybe when I'm feeling less bruised and wrung dry, we could try that second way to make you... ummm." Willow felt herself going absolutely crimson, part of her amazed that she'd had the nerve to put any of that into words.  
  
He looked amazed as well, and delighted. "That sounds good to me, luv."  
  
  
  
end part 17.  
  
  
  
  
  
So things settled into a new pattern. Buffy had her Spike, the Garou delighted by her strength and protectiveness. They seemed to be entirely besotted with each other, which made Giles happy. Buffy had someone to be with, someone to allow her a relationship, and at the same time, her Spike, now calling himself William, would not allow her to shirk her sacred calling. Buffy was content, and William would keep her safe, would keep her from abandoning her duties.  
  
As for himself, the Garou had no desire anymore to return to his homeworld, even if they happened to discover a way to send him. This world had so few protectors, and such a great need for them. How could he abandon them to the Wyrm, to darkness, chaos and corruption? Here was someone he could stand beside, battle beside and protect. A mate that could be his equal without violating the most sacred teachings of the Garou. Life for him was better than it had been before.  
  
Giles had asked very little about the individuals of the Garou, content to ask about their history and traditions instead. He was also very curious to learn how the Garou increased their numbers if it was not passed by biting. He was curious and fascinated by the fact that it was instead something that they were born with.  
  
Xander and Anya were glad that Buffy had someone that wouldn't be frightened away by her destiny. The fact that he could keep her safe and wouldn't loose his soul like Angel had were powerful benefits in their minds. With Buffy happy and safe, things would be safer for them as well.  
  
The fact that somehow, Willow and the vampire Spike had decided to date each other was considered yet another baffling thing blamed on the hellmouth. The only reason that nobody tried very hard to convince her otherwise was that considering that this was the hellmouth, and the nature of the current and previous dating histories of everyone involved, Spike wasn't that abnormal. Not for the scoobies anyhow.  
  
Giles was the only person who seemed to have any idea why a quiet murmur of 'reason number two, luv' would make Spike get this distant look, accompanied by a smile and the closest that they'd ever seen a vampire come to blushing. Giles apparently had no intention of sharing anything to do with an explanation.  
  
As for Willow, she seemed quite content to be involved with Spike. She was more confident in everything except her magic, getting this oddly worried expression every time she was asked to perform any major rituals. Giles wasn't certain what could be the cause of it, because Willow's power seemed to have made a sudden increase.  
  
Only Spike seemed to know what made her nervous, and he wasn't talking about it. Although Buffy and her William also clearly remembered the black eyes that Willow had displayed when sealing the hellmouth. Nobody asked what had caused them.  
  
Perhaps they didn't want to know.  
  
Perhaps they were all content to remain without the potentially painful answers. For the moment, they were all healthy and happy. On the hellmouth, sometimes all you could ask for was to be healthy and happy right now. For the scoobies and their loves, 'right now' was enough.  
  
  
  
end part 18, end Fur and Fangs. 


End file.
